Fighting for my baby

I started to feel like I was going into labour.  I was surprised because I did not even know I was pregnant.  A midwife led me to a bed and scanned my tummy and told me that the baby had not survived.  I did not believe her and after a few pushes, out came a smaller-than-newborn, but good-sized baby boy.  He wasn’t moving, but I knew he was not dead.  I breathed on him and he started breathing.  Precious, surprising, awe-inspiring life. I had so much certainty that that little life was going to be.  I could feel my mother instinct-faith rising up, and there was no way anyone was going to tell me otherwise.  I was fighting for that child, and although obviously premature, that baby was going to be fine, and there was no way anyone else was going to take him away from me. 

Shortly after giving birth I was handed another baby to adopt.  I looked at the baby and did not recognize it.  I could see the boy had already had the newborn vaccines as a little band-aid covered his shoulder, and he had clearly already been cared for in the nursery.  I was asked if I would accept this baby.  I said I would.  Because who else would take it?  Because I could. Because I was willing.  But I felt no connection with this baby. If someone else had shown up at that moment and offered to take the baby, I probably would not have minded.  

That was the dream I had on Thursday morning around dawn.  

And it made me reflect on the importance of the spiritual birthing process.  

How often do I want a breakthrough without the pain? How often do I want the product without the process? 

But it is the pain of the process, the fighting, the endurance that grows our faith, gives us perspective and makes us take responsibility for the breakthrough.  The adopted baby I was offered, I knew I could love.  Logically, practically I could do it.  But I didn’t have the same feelings of ownership and responsibility for that child.  I wasn’t willing to fight for him like I was for the one I had birthed.  Even though I did not even know about him before I birthed him, and even though I was first told about him when he was supposedly already dead, I refused to let go.  I refused to accept anything but life from that body.  That baby had been given to me and I was going to take full responsibility for him.  In the dream I knew that if God had given me that child, he was going to live. 

If we don’t go through a birthing process for our breakthroughs, then maybe we are less willing to fight in prayer for them when things look bleak.  If we have no assurance that God has given us responsibility for a gift, talent, breakthrough, change in direction, etc, then when the enemy comes against us, how willing are we to fight? How much more quickly does doubt about God’s will come? How much more quickly are we willing to let things go? If the adopted baby had started looking unhealthy, I would honestly probably had felt relief a lot more quickly, not having taken on the responsibility in my heart for that child. 

And so that lead me to look at the areas where there are growing pains, birthing pains going on at the moment in my life: an overflowing, overwhelming house; my personal struggles for joy and gratitude; struggles in our team with sickness; our bank balance struggling to provide for the extra costs a growing household requires. What if we used those difficulties to alert us to that breakthrough is coming? What if we took hold of those struggles by the collar and looked at them straight and began thanking God for the life that is coming?  That we began to allow those birthing cries to be lifted up to God and call out to Him for things to come into alignment.  If we begin to trust that those pains are not indigestion but birthing pains.  That the baby is not dead, despite what others may say, but that our belief, our holding fast to the promise God has given us, will be rewarded and that the more intense the pain, the nearer the breakthrough. 

So I am asking God to show me His perspective this week.  I am asking Him to tell me about the babies we are birthing, the gifts He is releasing, the transitions He is orchestrating, the shifts that are happening, the areas where the enemy is getting nervous and acting out and kicking and screaming because he knows his time is short.  If only we will hold on.  Persevere.  Pray.  Hold on fast to Him.  If only we will stand on the Rock and trust that what He promised will be.  

So where are the struggles in your life this week? Be encouraged.  Breakthrough is coming.  If you will only hold on.  And cry out to Him. 

I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he turned to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
    out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
    and gave me a firm place to stand.

He put a new song in my mouth,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
    and put their trust in him.

- Psalm 40

Keep on Keeping On... Monday...

(I posted this last week on our family blog, but I wanted to share it here too for those who don't read our family blog...)


I am awake at 5am.  Kaleb is not getting the ‘sleep until 6’ memo.  I decide to use the time to pray.  I fight back sleepy eyes, choosing to trust that God knows and His strength is enough.

6am I spend an hour with the Lord as Mark makes the boys breakfast.  His Word sinks convictingly deep and I drag my guitar case onto my bed to force myself to worship – it is my self-subscribed medicine against that dark cloud at the moment.  I have to worship.  It has to be all about Him.  It just doesn’t work when it begins to be about me.

 

8am – It’s Joel’s first day back at nursery and after supervising the feeding of all our animals (a rabbit, a tortoise and three guinea pigs), I pile all the boys into the car.  They are all in good spirits, excited.  I ask them what they are thankful for as we drive and the two who can talk are both thankful for Joel going to nursery.  I am thankful for the provision to pay for it.  In my mind, the negative bank balance threatens me but I push it away, telling it that God has always provided up until now – there is no reason why this month will be any different.

8.40am I join our community prayers (40 minutes late) in the living room. Everyone is sharing their personal discipline challenges.  I feel my life is so disciplined and ordered that I need to be disciplined to allow ‘go with the flow!’… 

By 9am I am sat down with Daniel guiding him through his homeschool curriculum on pollution and valuing earth’s resources, and that verse I read this morning: If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them continues to nag at me all morning. It nags at me as I make lunch for just 5 adults and 3 children today (lasagna – the 5 other regulars are busy today) throw the unnecessary polythene wrapping into the bin whilst thinking how I need to communicate with Mark to try and buy things with less wrapping…

The downstairs is a total mess.  The lady who comes to help clean in the mornings hasn’t arrived and the sink is piled with dishes, the floor covered in mess (having over a dozen people coming and going all day and 25 for lunch yesterday takes its toll, to add to the boys!).  How am I going to homeschool, cook and clean before 11.50am?? The Lord knows – I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.  Rosa offers to wash up and clean the kitchen so I do a quick toy and book blast-clear-up, stuffing toys into boxes, and aligning cushions.  There. Sufficient. Perhaps it will be okay.

The liquidizer gets a double use today – once for the veg for the lasagna (hidden vegetables are the only sort that get eaten by my boys), and once to make paper pulp.  It seems ironic to me that I use up more paper towels cleaning up the water mess than I ‘save’ by making recycled paper, but Daniel loves it and we add dried leaves and oregano into the paper as it dries in the hot, hot sun.

By 11.30am I am wondering if we will get the paper and the lasagna done before 11.50am when I have to go and pick up Joel.  The garden is so dry from lack of watering (we live in a desert so there is no natural rain), that I stick the hose on. I try to remind myself that a) it doesn’t matter if I am slightly late to pick up Joel, and b) God knows what I need to do – he will work it out.  Trying to speak out that faith, but my stress levels are beginning to rise…

I am 10 minutes late to pick up Joel.  At least Kaleb is wearing a pair of shoes that don’t fall off his feet this time.  I apologize to Joel’s teacher and she is not in the least bit bothered.  Peering into the classroom, I can see why – we may be the first ones to pick up.  Well, this is Peru…! Joel is happy and communicative (amazing!) and we drive home trying to get Kaleb to sing the odd words in our songs. Us: Cows in the kitchen… Kaleb: Moo…moo…! Daniel and Joel are in hysterics and I am reminded that they are so carefree and I am meant to be like them, not them like me…anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it…

12.40pm: For some unknown reason I let Kaleb and Joel play with the hose (yes, it is still going) and Kaleb gets soaked whilst Joel constantly asks me if he can play carnavales – basically he wants me to fill up 100 water balloons for him.  (Now is it more of a waste to have them stuck unused on the fridge, or burst and in a landfill?!) There is no way that lunch is going to be ready if I stop for the balloons, but I do have to stop every 2 minutes to tell Joel ‘no’ and re-explain to him why… The postman arrives bringing magazines from G.G. and chocolate.  (2 of the 3 bars are melted, but nothing the fridge won’t sort out… well, those aero bubbles are never coming back, but it still tastes good!) Daniel is now unreachable, lost in the world of his magazine.

12.45pm: Sink is full of washing up from cooking.  Kaleb is totally soaked. New nappy now totally soaked. Strip him down and let him run around for 2 minutes whilst I check on the lasagna. Kaleb comes into the kitchen. ‘poo…poo’.  Uh-oh.  A solid, no-mess poop sits in the doorway.  I quickly grab a wipe and clear it up.  Phew. Easy. 

‘poo…poo’.  I look at Kaleb.  He is pointing to the porch.  A squashed poop sits there laughing at me.  I lift both his feet and give them a wipe.  Another wipe clears up the rest of the mess. I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.   I find another nappy quickly. 

Wash hands. Wash dishes. Check lasagna.  Grab Kaleb before he terrorizes the guinea pigs with his toy cars.  Yell at Daniel and Joel to go and get dressed for lunch. (They are both in their underpants from watering the garden).  Joel hears me, Daniel is engrossed in his magazine. 

1pm Amanda arrives with baby Judah for lunch.  Mark and Shaun are close behind.  We sit down to eat.  Joel finally eats his lasagna when we convince him that it is just spaghetti Bolognese with cheese and flat pasta.  Kaleb takes two bites out of a piece of fried banana and refuses to eat anything else. Daniel finishes up his plate.

By 2.00pm Mark has the boys for an hour and a half so I can rest/catch up on admin.  Today, the only thing that is happening is a nap.  I put on some music (Volume 1: Psalms 1-10 by The Psalms Project) and enter the land of nod. 

3.30pm I am with the boys again.  Kaleb wants milk and tries to fall asleep, but it is too late for a nap if we want him bed before 10pm, so I get up quickly and head for the stoller.  Kaleb is protesting and I am groggy from my sleep, feeling irritated and wanting to run back to my bedroom and lock the door, but I can’t.  Remind myself that a walk will get rid of that grogginess and get the boys ready to go out.  Mark is busy until 7pm. That’s 3.5 hours to kill.  Walking to the cremolada shop and back should kill two hours and then we can come back, eat and make cards and then it should be ready for the bedtime hour. 

By the time all the boys are in bed at 7pm I am tired, irritated and thankful.  I think back on the day, which feels like three days in one.  Thankful for the people God has sent to help with the boys and the mess and to allow my time with Him and to nap.  He truly does enable me to do all the things I need to do. And as for the other things that didn’t get done? There is always tomorrow…or the next day… 

I remind myself that it is all about one step at a time…so thankful that God doesn’t give up on me for my daily messes but that He takes me by the hand and reminds me: I can do all things through Him who gives me strength. 

Three ways to send your roots deep

Let me tell you a story…

Once there was an eagle who planted a shoot in fertile ground next to a river.  The shoot let its roots grow out towards the river, grew strong and became a fruitful vine, unmoved by any strong winds.  

Another eagle planted a shoot in land that was equally fertile, next to an equally abundant river.  This time however, the shoot sent its roots up towards the eagle, shallow and towards the top soil.  The plant soon withered and failed to grow, being lifted off when the winds came.  

( You might be surprised to find that this parable is actually in the Bible, in Ezekiel 17, and is a parable about what happens when a nation focuses on a strong, arrogant leader instead of God.) 

How I need to intentionally set my roots deep into Him!

How easy it is to let the distractions or strong winds of this life try to carry me away rather than stand against them.

How I need that manure-clad soil of experience of His faithfulness to nourish and encourage my soul in the face of a mocking Goliath.

I know I need deep roots, but what does that actually look like? 

I asked God to show me practically how to  keep my roots focused on Him and He graciously led me to Phillippians 4:6-7:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Three life-giving steps to having my mind and heart enveloped in Jesus:

1. Do not be anxious about anything

The temptation comes to be worried.  This week the temptation to accept fear at night with Mark being away. The devil trying to remind me of the robbery now over a year ago.  I choose to remember His faithfulness in the last few times Mark has been away – nights of peace and communion with Him.

2. by prayer and petition… present your requests to God

Reminded of the power of specific prayers.

Today praying for a week filled with Him, our family in good health all week, days filled with peace and His Spirit whispering the reminder 'I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.’

3. with thanksgiving 

Thanksgiving, thanksgiving, thanksgiving.

Thank you for this opportunity to spend more focused time with the children whilst half the team are away.  Thank you for the opportunity for Mark and the other half of the team to go and share God’s love in the jungle.  Thank you for your peace, and reminder once again of your protection and closeness in all.

Oh, Lord, that my roots would go deep into you this week!

And you reply so boldly!:

“whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14)

Oh, let it be in me! 

Fruitful Tree image 

Tempted to give up

Sometimes I look at a bad situation and I start praying.  

And that is the right response.  

A broken bank balance, a defiant child, a crying heart once again failing to change herself.  Prayer is always the right response. 

But what sort of prayer?

A deep desperate helpless cry,

or

a submitted, authoritative, listening prayer?

What if I also allowed the situation to show me a larger perspective.  What if God had already responded and set His will forward and the opposite I see is just a temporary spiritual kick back? What if the intensity is a sign that breakthrough, not devastation is near?

All I know is that before we receive a financial gift that is going to change our hopeless bank balance, we regularly have a financial attack.  A broken water tank meaning jug showers out of pots and pans has become this week’s norm – too normal that we complain not, struggling forward not to cope with another thing wrong, but to carry a pan full without overflowing the brim. 

All I know is that before my child steps forward in leaps and bounds in character, I often spend days wondering if he will ever listen to me, if it is too late, if I had only stepped down harder, if he will forever write on the walls, already condemning him in my mind to be a graffiti artist, and he has not yet reached 6?

All I know is my own struggle with sin – this week striving to respect my husband in all I say, and realizing instead all the complaints that flow far too quickly off my tongue – do I have faith that the Holy Spirit will empower my words and I too will change?

And then I remember that the struggle points to heaven’s momentum to bring change – it is precisely because I am about to be empowered to speak and encourage my husband that I am struggling now to do so – if I am just willing to submit to God and accept my powerlessness to change me. 

And it is precisely because my prayer for depth of character and sincerity has been answered that my child is still sticking in his heels, until we sit, heads bowed on his bed, him asking the Holy Spirit to change him and give him self-control, and all of a sudden his impulse to label everything directly turns into everything being labeled by post-it notes instead.

And it is precisely because we know there is an enabling gift flying through the imaginary bank transfer lines from their bank to ours that I just smile and tell Satan to get behind me when the water tank fails – does he think a few financial attacks are going to stop us trusting that God will send enough to cover it and to pay for the things he has destined the money for?   

You see, I am reminded, that it is all about perspective.

And perspective shifts the way we pray.

Thank you for your provision for us daily, thank you for hot water, and stoves for heating water and for jugs, and thank you for the gifts you are sending to provide for all our needs.

Thank you for my child and his heart, already won by you, and that you are showing him how to humbly come to you for help.  Help him always to know he can’t but you can.  Help him to hear your voice louder than the devil’s temptations.

Thank you for your transforming enabling Spirit on my words.  Thank you that I am going to be known as an encourager and defender of my husband, not a loose tongued wife.  Thank you that you want to use me to show others how you enable us to be more like you in our marriage – oh that I would never think it was in my own strength, but recognize it is only through you that I am sanctified and enabled.

It is all about heaven’s perspective.  Where do you need to know it? You know He is waiting to tell you, don’t you? Just draw close and listen to that whisper. 

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 

 – 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18